The Choices We Make
by 8BonnieBlue8
Summary: Part one in the Choices Series. What if Elle had decided to go with Claire and Peter instead of going to Pinehearst in 3.07? Would things be different?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Pretty AU from episode 3.07 so forget almost everything you know from later on. And for those of you who are reading my Crystal Prism story don't worry I haven't abandoned that, I just couldn't get rid of this idea.

_**Whistler:**__ There are moments in your life that make you, that set the course of who you're gonna be. Sometimes they're little, subtle moments. Sometimes... they're not. I'll show you what I mean._

_**Buffy the Vampire Slayer**_

"Elle, help me get him in the car!" Claire cried, trying to support Peter's weight as she carried him across the ground.

The blonde woman looked from Peter and Claire to the building. Peter had said that his powers were taken from him, could the same thing be done for her? She didn't really want to lose her power, it was the only thing that made her special, but she didn't know how much more of this agony she could take. Elle wanted to sleep, wanted to eat and, _god,_ she needed a shower. But was it worth losing her power for? What if she could learn to control it? She wouldn't have to lose it than.

Then there was Claire. Despite herself, she was beginning to like the little perfect cheerleader, who, as it turned out, wasn't so perfect after all. Elle had never had a friend before, unless you counted Adam, so she didn't know how to tell whether Claire liked her too. She thought she did and that was something new and worth grasping onto.

But the pain was unbearable. She looked towards the door and back to Claire who was watching her with pleading eyes. It confused Elle that the cheerleader wanted so much for her to come, after all, who was she to her? Just another pity case with a messed up head because Daddy wouldn't stop playing around and now she's broken, and she doesn't think anyone can fix that.

As if to empathise her point a painful shock ran through Elle's body and she shut her eyes tight, trying to keep in a scream. Seeing this, Claire shook her head.

"Elle, we'll find another way to control our powers, but we have to go," the blonde told her.

Elle shook her head. "We can't, whatever's wrong with us this is the only place that can fix it."

Peter grunted in pain as Claire made a rather sharp step towards her.

"These people aren't going to help you, Elle. They're not safe. My own _father_ had me thrown out a window; he tried to kill me, Elle. Think of what he'll do to you," Peter cautioned, just getting the words out through the pain. He didn't know what to make of Elle, she'd killed Caitlin's brother and for that he doubted he'd ever forgive her. But he still remembered that time at the company when she'd told him her life story, and the bitterness that had sounded so out of place in her normally bright voice. And he couldn't hate her.

Finally Elle nodded, still looking doubtful, and helped Claire lead Peter to the car. "You're just a sucker for trouble, aren't you, Peter?" Elle muttered and Peter smiled while Claire just looked confused.

...

Elle's breath hitched as another electric shock ran through her. She sat in the backseat beside Peter as Claire drove; she was currently cleaning some of the ex-sponge's wounds. Sometimes working for the company did have its benefits, even if it was just first aid.

Peter frowned, concerned. "You OK, Elle?"

The blonde smiled falsely. "Perfect." Another shock ran through her body, contradicting her words.

"What's wrong with your ability?"

Elle bit her lip, she always hated admitting weakness. "I can't control them. We're lucky I didn't crash the plane on the way over."

"Yeah, you could've told me that was going to happen before we got on," Claire spoke up from the front seat.

"How was I supposed to know my powers were going to go all kablooy? It's a random thing, you know?"

"Well, you could've at least told me you were an anxious flyer."

Peter smirked. "You're afraid of flying?"

Elle snorted in disbelief. "Of course not; Pom-Pom's deluded. Now hold still." He did so, grin still firmly in place, as she taped up the last of his cuts.

"So, do you guys know each other?" Claire asked.

"Peter was what you'd call an old toy of mine," Elle said nonchalantly, packing up the first aid kit that had luckily been stowed away in the car.

Peter cleared his throat. "I prefer acquaintance."

"You are what you are," was her happy reply.

"You know what? I don't want to know," the cheerleader concluded.

"Good choice," Peter told her.

Elle looked away and out the window. The situation was so surreal that she couldn't even trust herself to believe it was actually happening. And even more strange was the fact that she felt like she actually fit here, and she'd never fit anywhere, not even back at the company.

Suddenly the most painful shock yet, they seemed to be getting more so all the time, came and Elle let out an agonised scream, unable to hold it in. The jolt ran throughout her body, leaking into every pore of her being and making her feel the utmost pain in places she didn't even know she had. Elle couldn't believe she'd given up the chance of getting rid of this forever for some not-so-perfect cheerleader and her lying uncle.

The blonde felt the car pull to a halt; clearly Claire didn't want to be driving with screaming in the background. Some rushed conversation was taking place between the other two travellers but Elle barely noticed; the sound of her own screaming was too loud for that. Elle could feel tears trickling down her cheeks and would've cursed herself for the sign of weakness if she could.

Her side door was pulled open and a fuzzy looking Claire appeared in front of her; everything was starting to look a little fuzzy now.

"Elle?"

The blonde could feel the last of the shocks leaving her body and as it did she fell forward into the stunned cheerleader's arms, just as her world went dark.

...

When Elle woke up she was in Peter's arms as Claire once again drove in the front seat. She shifted slightly, her whole body aching, which alerted Peter to her consciousness.

"Hey, you OK?" Damn Peter, always the caring one.

"Sure." She could tell he didn't believe her.

"Has that happened before?" Claire asked concerned. "Passing out after one of your overloads."

"Yeah," Elle admitted, gasping in pain as she tried to sit up. Peter gently pushed her back down so her head was once again in his lap.

"Don't try to get up just yet," he cautioned.

"How many times?" the blonde asked, concern rising.

"'Bout seven," Elle answered nonchalantly, all the while glaring at Peter. "The worse time was in my car about a month ago, ended up in hospital for about a week."

"What?" Both Claire and Peter exclaimed simultaneously.

Elle shifted uncomfortably. "It's no big deal." She scowled. "Although I would like it to stop."

"We can go to the company, see if they can help," the blonde cheerleader suggested.

"There is no _way_ I'm going back to that place," Elle said through gritted teeth. Peter looked down at her confused and she struggled to get up, this time he didn't stop her.

"Elle, it may be the only chance of fixing your power," Peter reasoned.

The blonde snorted. "For all I know they're the reason I'm like this in the first place."

"Mum wouldn't let that happen."

"You have no _idea_ what that woman has let happen."

Peter looked at her; confused as to the meaning behind her words. She didn't bother to straighten it out for him.

"Well, we don't have to go to Mrs Petrelli, we can go to dad instead," Claire suggested.

"Oh, and he's so much better," Elle commented sarcastically only to be ignored.

"We can't go to mum anyway, she's in a coma."

"Come on, Elle, what's the worst that could happen?" Claire asked optimistically. Elle didn't even want to start on the list of things that were piling themselves up in her head.

"Fine," she conceded finally, though she doubted Mr Bennet would be much help – he wasn't any other time why would he be now?

"That's good, 'cause we're almost there," Claire said with a smile.

Elle chuckled. "So it didn't really matter what I said? We were going to go there anyway."

Claire just grinned.

...

Noah was shocked to say the least when he saw not only Claire getting out of a car and walking towards him but also Elle and Peter. But of course it was Monday so he should've expected it – strange things always seemed to happen on Mondays. Peter was limping along and Claire was alternating between supporting him and the other blonde woman who seemed about ready to collapse; very strange things.

"Claire, Elle, Peter," he greeted. "What a surprise."

"Yeah, well, there's been a lot of surprises lately," Claire muttered, glaring at him. "None of them good." It was obvious she was thinking about what he'd done in his pursuit to rid the world of Sylar. Bennet sighed and moved in to help Elle hobble across the foot path so Claire was free to help Peter but the electric blonde withdrew from him. He sighed, what he'd done to piss her off more than usual was anyone's guess, and turned to help Peter instead. The other man gratefully accepted and Claire went about helping Elle who was looking exhausted, her hair in disarray.

"Do I even want to know what happened?" he asked as they made their way towards the company building.

"Not really, but I think you should," Claire told him.

Noah nodded; he hated it when that happened, it usually meant that something bad was going to come and mess everything up. He looked over at Elle and wondered what was wrong with her, she didn't appear to have any physical damage, and why weren't Peter's wounds healing?

"So, who messed you up?" Bennet asked Peter.

"My father."

"Of course," he replied, it took a lot to surprise him and this was no exception even if the old bastard was supposed to be dead. "I should've guessed." Noah really hated Mondays.

...

Noah looked down at Elle's sleeping form in the infirmary. Peter was on his own bed beside her, chatting to Claire. He could still remember the many times he'd had to see Elle in this exact bed, most of those times when she was still a child.

"_How you doing, Elle?" Noah Bennet asked taking a seat beside Elle's bedside. Her father had just done another test on her and the Haitian would soon come to wipe her memories of the event. It hurt him every time this happened; Elle was so much like baby Claire and seeing the way the tests along with the company were changing her was almost exactly like watching it happen to his own daughter._

_She looked up at him with dull eyes. "Is Daddy mad at me?"_

_He stared at her. "No, of course not."_

"_Then why is he doing this to me?" It broke Noah's heart to see the utter destruction her father had caused in the little girl's ice-blue eyes._

"_I don't know," he replied honestly. "I'm sure it'll stop soon." Elle could still remember all the tests from the past week as the Haitian hadn't erased them yet and Bennet couldn't help but wonder whether it would help at all when he did; could anything get rid of brokenness he now saw in he?_

"_No it won't," she told him. "You've said that before."_

_Bennet stared at her; he had said that before but no time that she could remember. If Elle could remember that than what else could she remember?_

"_Have I?"_

_She nodded weakly. "I think so." _

"_Well it will," he said, knowing it was a lie._

_Elle nodded; she did too. "You're going to leave me soon, aren't you?"_

"_Well, I do have to get home; I'm supposed to be looking after Claire-Bear while Sandra goes out."_

_She shook her head. "I'm not talking about today. I mean forever. You're going to leave me forever soon."_

"_Of course not." It was a lie, he probably would, and being around Elle was just too painful._

"_You're lying. Everyone leaves eventually," she told him, voice calm like nothing could reach her where she was. "Mummy did, grandma did and so did Ms Elfa."_

_He sighed; there was no use lying. "Yeah, I probably will."_

_She nodded. "That's OK. I forgive you."_

_There was a knock on the door and they both looked up to see the Haitian standing there, looking regretful about his coming task. This was not something Noah wanted to witness again._

"_Well, I better go," he said, getting up. He was however stopped by a tiny hand._

"_Mr Noah, will you bring Claire-Bear in to meet me one day?" Elle asked. "I don't have anyone else to play with." He could still remember when the sweet way she said his daughter's nickname then became a mocking strike in the future._

_Noah didn't much want to bring Claire into this place but it seemed to be the only thing he could do for Elle. "Yeah." Although how the girl expected to have fun with a barely two year old was beyond him._

_She smiled for a moment but it all too quickly disappeared. He left the room, leaving behind the Haitian and little Elle; Bennet would never forget the dull look in her eyes when he stepped out the door._

_..._

Sighing, Noah Bennet leant forward and placed a soft kiss on the sleeping woman's forehead. "I'm sorry." He was sorry for everything. Sorry that the little girl first brought into the company was erased just like the rest of her memories over the years. That she had to be the way she was, that he hadn't helped her.

Over the years Bennet had never allowed himself to feel guilt over the many things he'd done but he'd allow himself just this once, for Elle; she deserved that much at least.

He turned and walked towards Peter and Claire who had been watching his interaction with Elle in open confusion but luckily didn't comment.

"Is she going to be OK?" Claire asked and Noah wondered where her sudden concern for the petite blonde had come from.

"Until we find out what's causing her abilities to malfunction and how to stop it there's no telling. It's not much of a surprise that she passed out earlier, from what we can tell Elle hasn't eaten well in a long time and the lack of sleep you told us about was also a factor." He paused – they were getting towards the sore part of the topic. "Her ability has caused a lot of damage to her internal organs, if the shocks continue there's no telling what could happen."

"But you'll be able to find a way to get it under control right?" Peter asked.

"The last time Elle's ability over loaded like this we couldn't find a way to stop it," he admitted. The last time Elle's ability overloaded like this she was ten.

"What happened?" Claire asked.

"She died." There was a shocked pause following after the admittance. "Fell in a swimming pool and electrocuted herself. Mr Lindeman revived her. Elle doesn't even know it happened, although she's always had a major fear of water ever since . . .regardless, her ability was back to normal afterwards so we didn't have to find a way to control it."

Claire bit her lip guiltily. "We should've let her go to your father. He's probably the only one who can help."

"There's no telling what Arthur Petrelli would have done to Elle, Claire. She probably would have been in more danger there than she's in here now," Noah said in a consoling tone. He frowned. "And why the sudden change of heart, last time I heard you wanted her head on a pike?"

Claire glanced towards the hospital bed where Elle was sleeping peacefully. The company had given her a sedative in an attempt to calm her electrical outbursts and it seemed to have worked. But it was certainly no solution to the problem, Elle couldn't spend the rest of her life in a drug induced coma.

"I guess I found out that she wasn't who I first thought she was."

Noah chuckled at that. "Elle's never who you first think she is." He paused glancing over at the older blonde. "You should probably call your mum, tell her you're alright . . . Also, although we're going to be doing all we can to try and find a way to help Elle, she doesn't need to be here the whole time, she certainly won't want to be. Maybe your mother might find it in her heart to offer up the spare room."

"Whoa, hold it right there," Claire cried holding up her hands. "I admit I don't hate Elle now but what you're suggesting, that much time together, one of us is bound to kill the other! Not that I can die but you get the point."

"I reckon it could be fun," Peter commented with a smirk. "She'll be like the sister you never had."

"And never wanted," Claire muttered.

Noah grinned. "No, I seem to remember a certain amount of begging; 'Mum, can I have a sister?' 'Dad, can I have a sister?' 'Please, please, please!' Then of course you got a brother instead."

"That's beside the point. Elle and I just won't survive that long without ripping each other to shreds; it's just not in our nature."

"Then Peter can come along as a buffer."

"Wait, what? When did I come into this?" Peter asked, shocked.

"Around about a few seconds ago," Noah told him. "Or if you want to be exact, when you fell out that window."

"Look, Mr Bennet, Elle and I kind of have a history, if anything Claire would be working as a buffer between Elle's fingernails and my face."

"Yes, I heard," Mr Bennet said with a smirk. "But Elle's really not someone to hold grudges if you don't give her reason to."

"You heard about that?" Peter asked. "How?"

"I have my ways."

They were stopped from saying anything more on the subject by the sound of Elle stirring in her bed; clearly the sedative was wearing off. The blonde blinked her eyes open and looked around her, nearly falling out of bed in surprise when she saw the other three staring at her like she was some sort of porcelain doll that might shatter at any minute.

"Good sleep?" Claire asked.

Elle grinned and there seemed to be a bit more colour in her cheeks than earlier. "Best one in weeks." She turned to Noah. "Did you find out what's wrong with us?"

"Not yet, but don't worry, we will."

Elle nodded, though she didn't look convinced, and sat up. She was still in yesterday's clothes as were Claire and Peter. "So, what's on the itinerary for today? It's going to be hard to top yesterday's events."

"Thank god," Claire mumbled.

"Oh, come on, Pom-Pom, you can't tell me yesterday wasn't just a little bit fun? How many people can say their plane almost crashed?"

"Yeah, fun!" Her tone of voice suggested otherwise and Elle grinned. "And what's with all the peppiness, how can someone be peppy at 7:00 in the morning?"

"Only the crazy ones," Peter informed her lightly. Elle glared at him playfully and crawled out of bed, making her way over to Peter's and jumping onto it. Smiling evilly she extended a hand toward a nervous Peter and let a small jolt grace his nose. Peter jumped in a mixture of pain and surprise. Claire snorted and Noah smirked.

"I warned you not to offend her, Peter," Mr Bennet said as Elle took a seat, cross-legged, on the bed beside Claire. Noah hadn't seen her this bubbly in a long time and it made him smile involuntarily. But it seemed as though he'd spoken, well thought, too soon for a shock ran through her body and she stiffened. It was only a quick one but it immediately dampened the blonde's mood. He sighed and turned back to Peter who was looking at Elle in concern. God help him, Elle hated pity and concern wasn't that far off that in her eyes.

"Claire and I were just discussing the topic of where you are to stay while the company works on finding out what's wrong with you," Noah cut in when it looked like Elle was about to snap at Peter.

She turned to face him, surprised. "You mean I don't have to stay here?"

"Not if you don't want to. I know that after spending your whole life in the company the thought of coming back is far from appealing so I was thinking you could stay with Claire, you might even get around to going to that amusement park you've been pining over all your life."

"That's nice an' all but I do have a place to stay," Elle replied looking offended at the idea of such charity, that or she thought he was keeping her under tabs, something that he'd anticipated.

"And where exactly are you staying? A motel?" he retorted.

"It's a nice motel!"

"Look, I need someone around to protect my family now that Meredith's working with me. Peter can't because he's lost his ability and although yours may be malfunctioning it _is_ still working," Noah lied; she'd never know the difference.

"Alright, fine, but you owe me," Elle grumbled. Bennet smirked and shared a look with Peter and Claire who'd caught onto his master plan all too soon. Claire still seemed to be having trouble coming to terms with the fact that she might just have to share a house with the electric blonde for an extended period of time.

"Back to the subject of your powers, I've been thinking we could use the ability-represent pills, see if they work," he suggested.

Elle chuckled darkly. "Yeah, just one problem with that theory, I'm allergic."

Noah stared at her; he hadn't even known that she'd been on them before.

"Daddy gave me some when I was little, something about not liking the way I kept playing with the company's power and all that jazz," she waved her hand to demonstrate and Noah nodded; he remembered that. "Anyway, my face blew up like this big balloon. Which is really strange, 'cause the only thing I know I'm allergic to is peanuts."

Bennet frowned; that certainly crossed out that idea which was the worse possible thing they could've hope for; if they couldn't find a way to control Elle's ability again and they couldn't use the pills either there was no doubt in his mind that she'd die.

"We'll have to do some tests, see what you're allergic to and maybe we can change the ingredients in the tablets." Noah didn't miss how she flinched at the word tests and his face softened. "Just some blood tests, Elle, nothing too extravagant."

Claire and Peter looked at him confused and Elle nodded stiffly, unhappy that she'd been caught.

"Claire, ring your mother," Noah announced suddenly. "It's time for you to go home, and you're taking Elle with you."

...

Elle stared out the window as Claire pulled the car to a stop outside her house. Peter had decided to come back with them, just for a few days, and now sat beside Elle in the back seat. Every few minutes he'd glance over at her as if he expected her to fall to pieces any minute. Elle wasn't the only one who'd found this annoying, Claire had snapped at him a few miles back. Well, maybe not snapped; the cheerleader was too sweet and innocent for that.

Peter, always the gentleman, was out of the car and by her door in a matter of seconds, pulling it open and offering her a hand out. She glared at him and got out on her own, he then opened the door for Claire who actually let him help her.

"So, your mum's OK with this?" Elle asked, brushing nonexistent dust off her jeans in a nervous habit.

"Well, she didn't seem non-OK with it," Claire said hesitantly.

"So, that'd be a 'no'?" Peter asked helpfully. Claire glared at him and Elle rolled her eyes.

"I'm just going to get this out of the way and say 'I really hate your house'," Elle began suddenly; it didn't really matter which house Claire was living in at the time, she just hated wherever Claire lived. "Considering that all of two times I've been in it I've found myself soaked and in a state of electrocuting myself. Odds are it's going to happen this time too."

"Yeah, well, if you don't go about electrocuting anyone this time around I think you'll be fine," Claire retorted.

"Doubtful, if your mum doesn't end up electrocuting me I probably will."

"I don't remember you being this pessimistic," Peter commented.

"Yeah, well, it's a wonder you remember me at all what with that job the Haitian did on you," Elle muttered as they reached the door. Claire listened in confused silence whilst taking out a key to unlock the door. It was yanked open before she could complete her task however and the blonde was engulfed in a hug from her mother.

"Oh, Claire, it's so good you're back," Mrs Bennet murmured, hugging her closer.

Elle watched the spectacle silently, a bout of jealously twisting and clawing at her insides. God, how she wished that was her. A little shock ran through her body and she winced; the blonde had to learn to control her emotion or she'd make like barbecue chicken and fry. The next jolt was a little –well, OK, a lot – stronger and she clamped her teeth together to keep back a scream.

"Are you OK?" Peter asked.

"Do I look OK to you?" she hissed in response.

Claire extracted herself from her mother's embrace just as a cry escaped Elle's lips. The younger blonde made her way over and took Elle's hand in hers. A sigh of relief escaped her as the electricity flowed into Claire and slowly ebbed away to nothing. The two smiled at each other and Peter and Mrs Bennet shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though they were intruding on something private.

"Thanks, Pom-Pom," Elle muttered, taking her hand out of Claire's grip and looking away. Claire sighed and made her way inside, followed by her mum.

Peter made his way over to Elle, gazing at her curiously. "Is it just me or are you trying really hard not to be her friend?"

Elle smiled at him sadly. "I gave up being attached to people a while ago." With that she followed after Claire.

Peter made his way indoors, silently closing the door behind him. This was bound to be an interesting stay.

...

Anxiously, Elle looked around for any other of the house's occupants. She certainly didn't want anyone to catch her doing this, boy that would raise a lot of questions. Seeing no-one, the blonde made her way over to the computer desk, the same one she'd sat at not too long ago. Hopefully no-one would interrupt her this time.

Hesitantly she typed in Bennett's password, hoping against hope that it's the same one he used at the company (the same one she spied him typing when she was sixteen and Elle had the best of memories, as long as the Haitian never intervened). Elle smiled when access was granted and hastily rifled through Noah's files until she found his company one. The blonde may have pretended that what Bennet had said never happened but that didn't stop her urge to know, her desperate need to prove him wrong.

Finding the archive on people at the company – its workers and its prisoners – she quickly typed in 'Elle Bishop', her breath hitching nervously when the mouse landed on her folder. She could back out now and go on pretending that her Daddy was the picture perfect one she'd always believed. Who could say that Bennet hadn't lied anyway and this folder would probably prove that. But a stronger sense of foreboding sunk in at that thought; or it could prove that he hadn't.

...

Claire made her way inside the house, expertly juggling a shopping bag and a pile of library books as she hung the keys on the rack. Lyle was at a friend's house and her mum was at some book club whilst Peter was meeting with Nathan, which unfortunately had left only her to do the shopping; a task that she didn't enjoy in the least.

Claire paused on her way to the kitchen; there was something like the sound of screaming coming from the computer room. The noise was faint but she was sure that's what it was. Hesitantly, the blonde dropped her luggage on the living room table and headed towards the room. The door was left slightly ajar and it creaked when she opened it.

The computer was on and there was some sort of video playing across the screen. There was no-one at the desk and she wondered whether it was something left over from when Lyle had used the computer last; there was no telling what that boy got onto. The theory however was stopped short when she got closer to the computer and her eyes widened.

_A little girl, no older than eight, was strapped to a gurney, her short blonde hair plastered to her head by beads of sweat. Electricity pulsed from the girl's body as she let out bloodcurdling scream after scream. Tears ran down the girl's face and Claire winced when they caused the electricity to attack its owner. _

"_Bob, maybe we should stop for today," a voice she recognised as her father's suggested._

"_No, Noah, my girl's tougher than this you'll see," Bob replied._

"_Daddy, please," Elle pleaded in a voice that made Claire's heart wrench._

"_Now, Elle, we talked about this. You want to make Daddy proud don't you?"_

"_But – it –hurts!" Elle cried in-between screams. _

"_It'll stop hurting as soon as you do what I tell you. Now, put as much as you can into this machine here."_

Claire strode forward and pressed the close button on the window, unable to take any more of it. Her eyes narrowed when the whimpers and the crackling sound of electricity from the video didn't completely disappear. She turned around slowly and there crouched on the ground, huddled up, was Elle. Electricity pulsed over her body but she didn't seem to notice, even though Claire was sure it must have hurt.

"I remember." Elle's voice broke. "I remember everything."

Claire's hand went to her mouth to contain a sob and she made her way towards the broken girl. Crouching down in front of her, the cheerleader wrapped her arms around Elle and was surprised when she didn't protest. Claire ignored the electricity that flowed from Elle's body into her own and instead held tighter as she sobbed into her shoulder. The blonde hated her sob, it was unlike any other she'd ever heard – it was the sobbing of someone who'd lost everything.

"He always said I was special, why wasn't I special enough, Claire? Why?" Elle's words were muffled against her shoulder and only half made sense but she got the gist.

"I don't know." She held Elle tighter as though if she didn't the older women would slip away forever. Which was probably true. "I don't know."

**Whistler:** Bottom line is, even if you see them coming, you're not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So, what are we, helpless? Puppets? Nah. The big moments are gonna come, you can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are.


	2. Passion

_**Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own heroes because if I had I never would've let Elle die. And if I had let her die (which is really unlikely) I certainly wouldn't have let Sylar kill her.**_

_**Angelus**__: [narrating] Passion... it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us... passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have?_

_Buffy the Vampire Slayer_

When Peter got home that day, a bag of sedatives in his hands from Noah – who had shown up out of the blue to give to him just in case they ever came necessary – the house appeared relatively deserted. That was until Claire came down the stairs from her room. Her eyes were red and puffy as though she'd been crying and she looked like she'd just been dragged through hell. Peter was immediately worried.

"Claire, are you OK? What happened?"

Claire sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. "It's been a long day; well, afternoon really."

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Elle stumbled onto some of my dad's files on the computer, although, I actually think she went looking for them." She bit her lip, remembering some untold pain.

"Files of what?"

"Of her." Claire scowled. "You should've seen what the company did to her, what her own father did to her, when she was just a kid."

"Claire-" he started, confused and she raised her head to look him in the eyes, her own swimming with unshed tears.

"It was horrible, Peter."

He nodded, still not fully getting it, and pulled her into a hug. "They hurt her, Peter, they hurt her so bad." A sob escaped her throat and he held tighter.

"Where is she, where is she now?" he asked, a deep concern setting in. He didn't know what had happened but it must have been bad for Claire to act this way. The cheerleader pulled back and wiped her eyes.

"My room." She looked up at him. "God, Peter, she seemed so broken. I don't know what to do to make it better."

...

When Peter made his way inside Claire's bedroom he immediately noticed Elle's motionless form on the bed, her eyes starring unblinkingly at the opposite wall. The sight chilled him to the bone and he cautiously approached her. She didn't look up at the sound of his footsteps but Peter was sure she knew he was there.

"Elle?"

"I told Claire I wanted to be alone."

"I know," he said, but made no move to leave the room. Instead he took a seat on the bed beside Elle who could've been taken for sleeping if not for the fact that her eyes were open. He realized that it looked more like she was dead than anything; the thought sent a chill down Peter's spine. Elle didn't say anything to that didn't even look at him.

Hesitantly, Peter lay down beside her and when she didn't protest, wrapped his arms around her small form. She was shivering, reminding him that it was a rather cold day. At that thought he pulled her closer, trying to keep her warm and comfort her all at once. "I'm sorry." There was so much he was apologising for that he himself didn't know what the main point was. Once again she didn't speak.

It had been a long time since Peter had been this close to her, back when he was still a prisoner of the company and had kissed her. That burning kiss that had made him feel so alive. But he couldn't think about that now, not with Elle like this.

"Peter, do you think my dad loved me?"

He pondered the question. Downstairs Claire had filled him in on most of what had happened and it had left him appalled and disgusted. Had Bob loved his daughter? Peter didn't know. But it didn't much matter, there was only one answer he could give Elle right now. He knew instinctively that she was slowly sinking into a deep sea of depression and it was up to him to make sure she stayed afloat, to make sure she didn't drown.

"Yeah, Elle, I think he loved you." It was a soft whisper into her ear and he felt her slowly reach the surface. Hopefully she wouldn't slip back under.

...

When Claire found them two hours later Peter's arms were wrapped protectively around Elle while the blonde was snuggled deep into his chest. She smiled softly at the sight before silently backing out of the room and shutting the door. Elle was broken but then again so were they all and it was up to each and every one of them to fix the other. They were the three broken musketeers in a way and although their past had been rocky, Claire had a feeling it was all going to be alright. Because in the lives they led, they had to have something like that to believe in.

That still didn't solve the matter of where she was going to sleep tonight though.

As Claire walked past the computer on her way to the kitchen she swept her hand across the mouse and deleted the video. There were some things that should never be brought up again.

...

_Angelus: [narrating] Passion is the source of our finest moments; the joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief._

_Buffy the Vampire Slayer_

Elle awoke to find herself in Peter's arms. At first she didn't remember how she had gotten there and barely suppressed a surprised squeak. It died in her throat however when the events of the previous day came rushing back; everything seemed to die in her then.

Elle couldn't believe Bennet was right. How could her father have done that to her? She could remember now, the video had brought back her memories (she didn't even know that was possible) and, god, she wished it hadn't. Flashes of cold rooms and steel bands pulsing with painful electricity pounded the inner walls of her mind, accompanied by screams that seemed to echo on forever.

Her dad had loved her though, he had to have. It was a well repeated mantra in her head; one that she hoped to god was true.

"_Daddy, why is the sky blue?" six year old Elle asked. She sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast with her father while he read from the newspaper. He was well used to this little game she played._

"_Because blue is the colour of your eyes and the sky wanted to please you," he told her, not looking up from his newspaper. She beamed, in full belief of this._

"_Daddy, why do butterflies fly?"_

"_Because they didn't like walking."_

_Elle looked down at her waffles that were covered in ice-cream, syrup and strawberries. "Daddy, why are strawberries red?"_

"_Because red is the colour of love and everybody loves strawberries." Still he did not look up._

"_Why do birds sing?"_

"_Because they knew you'd like it."_

_She paused, pondering her next question. "Daddy, why do you and Mummy love me?"_

_This time he did look up. "Because you're our little girl who always has a smile for us."_

_Elle nodded, thinking that over. It didn't make that much sense but perhaps she'd understand it when she was older. "Will you and Mummy always love me?"_

"_Always and forever."_

_Satisfied with her answer the blonde returned to her breakfast, shovelling a few of the Love strawberries into her mouth._

She smiled slightly at the memory but it was quickly erased when another one took hold.

_Tears streamed down a seven year old Elle's face. She'd just finished another one of the stupid tests her Daddy made her do and god they hurt. She felt lightheaded and her eyes were threatening to shut from exhaustion._

"_That was worse than yesterday, Elle," Bob Bishop announced, his face marked with disappointment._

_She knew what that look meant. "Daddy...please."_

_He ignored her turning to face one of the employees. "Again." The employee hesitated, glancing at Elle with regret. "Again, Mckinnon!" he rushed to obey her father's orders and she was blocked from seeing his apologetic look by the tears that swam in front of her vision. The electricity pumped into her and she didn't know which was worse, when she had to conduct it or when it was used against her._

"_Now this time I want you to send it back into the machine," Bob ordered._

_She opened her mouth to try another round of begging but the machine had just reached its full power and, god, it hurt! Elle let out a bloodcurdling scream._

She pulled back from the memory and cussed when she felt the telltale sign of tears sliding down her cheeks. Elle hated crying, yet another thing that her dead had embedded in her.

"Hey, you OK?" Peter asked. She inwardly swore at the sound of his voice and realized she must've awoken him up.

The blonde wanted to tell him that she was fine, great even, but she didn't trust her voice to speak.

Peter leaned forward when she didn't answer planting a soft kiss on her head. "Stupid question."

The contact sent shivers up Elle's spine and she just resisted the urge to gasp in surprise. Instead, she once again snuggled back into the safety of Peter's arms; a safety she hadn't felt in a long time.

Even if it did feel a little strange being so close to him.

...

Claire skipped into the kitchen, a triumphant grin on her face as she stared at the delicious chocolate muffin she'd just stolen from Lyle. The boy's eyes had been glued to the Playstation all afternoon so it hadn't been that hard of a task, the blonde doubted he'd even realized it was gone yet. Claire was about to climb the stairs at the other end of the kitchen so as to put as much distance between herself and Lyle as possible but was stopped by the sound of her mother's voice.

"Oh, Claire, is everything OK with Elle?" Sandra asked, looking from the newspaper she had been reading at the kitchen table.

Claire bit her lip in apprehension and swung around to face her mother. "Why do you ask?" the blonde replied, deciding to play dumb for the moment.

"No reason really, it's just, she's been acting very strange today," Mrs Bennet said with a puzzled frown. "A little detached, I suppose you could call it." Claire was hardly surprised, in fact, acting 'a little detached' was the least strange she expected one to act the day after finding out one's father had performed horrific tests on them when they were just a kid. The thought made Claire slightly nauseas. "Then there's the fact that Peter's been following her around like an overprotective mother hen." In any other situation Claire would've laughed at the visual but she really didn't think Peter was overreacting in his concern for Elle. In fact, she would be doing the same if the blonde hadn't thrown a few sparks at the cheerleader for her efforts. It was clear Elle wanted to do the same to Peter but seemed to be withholding, probably because he couldn't heal anymore. "I really don't understand it. I mean, it's probably just me reading into everything too much but I just don't think I am."

"You're not," Claire told her quietly. "Elle stumbled across some of dad's company files yesterday and she found a video. A video detailing what the company, specifically her dad," she gulped, remembering the horror of the video, "did to her when she was little. It was pretty bad."

Sandra looked at the floor. "I know."

Claire stared at her stunned. "You know? How?"

"When Bob kidnapped you, your father kidnapped Elle and tied her to a chair. He put her feet in a bucket of water so whenever she tried to escape she'd electrocute herself; not one of my finest memories, I'll admit. Then he told her, told her what her father did to her, how the electricity messed with her mind." She paused looking up. "He never let the company near you, Claire, because he didn't want you to become Elle."

Claire stared at her for a few minutes, fighting back tears. If her father had known all along how come he hadn't helped Elle? How could anyone let that happen to a child? But she didn't ask that, she still remembered what her father had done in his endless pursuit to rid the world of Sylar. "If Elle knew then why did she go looking through the company files?"

Sandra smiled tearfully. "If Bob had told you that your father had done what Elle's had would you believe him?"

The answer to that was simple – no. Of course Claire wouldn't believe that if Bob had told her, in fact, she probably wouldn't have if anyone had told her. The cheerleader couldn't even comprehend what it would be like to realize her father had done that, couldn't even grasp what Elle must be going through.

"If you knew why didn't you tell me? I could've stopped Elle, I could've-"

"What?" Sandra cut in. "Put the computer on lock? Made sure that she was under constant watch at all times? Even if Elle had never found proof of what her father had done it would still always be there at the back of her mind, a deadly uncertainty. At least this way she can try and put it behind her."

Claire nodded, fingering the still uneaten muffin in her hand. She supposed that made sense. But she still wished Elle hadn't had to find out that way. She sighed. "Bye, Mum. I'm going to go find Elle and Peter, they went upstairs right?" Mrs Bennet nodded and Claire headed up the stairs.

About three minutes later a panicked looking Lyle came rushing into the room. "Mum, this is really important!"

She looked up once again from her newspaper.

"Have you seen my muffin?"

...

Elle sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the opposite wall of the guest room. She was currently going through the motions of her father's betrayal. Earlier she 'd been able to feel nothing but pain and agony (literally as well as mentally, thanks to her malfunctioning power) and now it was as though she couldn't feel anything at all. She was numb, hollow, and Elle didn't know which was worse.

Peter sat on his own bed, watching her intently. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately and it was driving her up the wall. Elle didn't mind his presence but she hated being looked at like some tiny, fragile doll that could break at any moment! It was infuriating.

Or had been that morning, and then just like everything else the emotion had left her. She was now completely numb; and what she wouldn't give to have that anger returned again. Just to feel real again; there was nothing Elle hated more than feeling false, lifeless.

The blonde felt the bed dip and vaguely looked to her right to see Peter sitting there. She ignored him, playing with a loose thread on her pants. Maybe if he left she could scream and throw things; maybe that would get the feelings back. Elle looked up into Peter's eyes, preparing to open her mouth to say something, anything to get him out of the room. _He has nice eyes_. _Focus, Elle!_ She reprimanded herself.

Peter's gazing at her with that expression. You know, the one that he had back at the company right before he kissed her? But Elle knows he won't act upon that want (if that is what he wants) because she's a fragile china doll and taking advantage of her like that would be wrong. At least, that's what a normal person would think.

Elle's not a normal person, she's never _been_ normal; doesn't know the meaning of the word. She wants him to take advantage of her, wants him to do something that might just make her feel. But he won't, because although he's not your average guy he's still relatively normal.

Elle wants to be normal. She doesn't want to have to think about dead daddies and what they did. She doesn't want to know how much electricity can kill a person and how much will make them wish they were dead. It's not normal, it's not real and she wants to be real. But it is real, she knows it's real and maybe she's only feeling numb because she doesn't want it to be. The blonde doesn't want to think about how it will feel when she's not numb.

Elle wants to feel happy. Wants to be again that little girl Noah described (unicorns and rainbows), wants to dance in the snow and smile all pretty on a date but most of all she just wants to be real. She just wants to feel.

"Elle?" Peter asked, probably confused by the fact that she's been staring at him so long. But then again, he's been staring at her for the same amount of time.

She wonders whether he can read what she's thinking through her eyes, she's always been told that she was unbelievably readable. The blonde raises her hand and rests it on his cheek. She wants to feel again. Peter stares at her even more confused and then, before she can change her mind, she's moving forward and her lips are on his. Elle doesn't know what her feelings towards Peter are, whether she's still infatuated with him like she was back at the company or whether that's shrivelled away to nothing and all she has is a certain kinship with him. But she doesn't care all she wants is to feel and this is all she can think of doing to get that.

Peter hesitates against her lips, unsure, but she's not about to let that stop her and soon their mouths are moving in sync. It's passionate and needy and maybe just a little rough. Elle can feel electricity sparking along her skin and wonders whether it'll hurt Peter (she doesn't really care). She feels the bed's soft cover hit her back and starts to feel. She starts to feel everything.

_**Angelus:**__ [narrating] It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank... without passion, we'd be truly dead_

_Buffy the Vampire Slayer_

_**A/N: So, what do yah think? Please review and tell me.**_


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